Confessional
by El Reino
Summary: MI6 is after him... again. So Alex goes to the place he knows MI6 probably wouldn't think to look for him. While there he has to deal with the fact his armor/self-defense is breaking. The result is shocking. Oneshot.


Hey guys. This is my first time I've dabbled in the world of Alex Rider fandom. I hope you guys like it. It it's OOC, or simply horrible, don't be afraid to tell me! Oh and I'm an American (yeah I know, ewwww) but if I have any of the... well 'language' wrong, I apologize in advance.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned the series... or just owning Alex Rider would do... :)

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A church. A _church_. Alex had never been to church before, other than for Christmas and Easter with Jack and Ian. Alex never really understood why Ian had taken him to church when his uncle had stressed that God was as real as Father Christmas. But yet, Alex could still remember sitting in that back pew, his hair slicked back, and his clothed starched and uncomfortable, waiting for the long Mass to be over.

The youth looked around and took in his surroundings. Like many other catholic churches, there were no cameras but there were a lot of places for a sniper, or someone who didn't want to be seen; to hide. Pews extended in neat rows before him, they were almost empty except for a few kneeling worshippers. There were various columns on the opposite side of the rooms, shielding hiding places from light. The stage or whatever they called it housed a place for the choir, candles for prayers, and a place… a stand for the priest to give mass every Sunday. The roof sloped up into a dome, delicate carvings and paintings decorating every inch of free space.

Alex groaned the noise loud in the deafening silence. For a spy, this was a nightmare. He hadn't even gotten to observe the balcony sloping over his head! There were too many places for someone to hide. For Scorpia to plant their agents. He turned to leave out the still closing doors, but he stopped.

There was a reason he had come here today. A reason that most people broke down and came to church for. Alex Rider, teenage spy and savior of the world, was desperate.

The revelation had rocked him this morning when MI6 agents had knocked on his door. Sabina had left and Jack had looked at Alex with the most forlorn look possible. It was too much and it had sent the weight of the world crashing down on his shoulders.

That weight pressed down once again, making Alex moan and sink into a pew. Nobody looked his way, passing it off as another lost soul come to find salvation.

Did he want salvation? Or was he here because he didn't know where else to go after sneaking out?

Alex kicked the knee rest out and sunk to his knees, emotion gripping him. He was just a kid. Yet, MI6 depended on him to save the bloody world! Over and over again he had thwarted the sick delusions of madmen, grappled with the most dangerous people on the planet, seen more adventure in one year than most do in a lifetime, and he had even had numerous brushes with death! Yet Alex did not feel proud or happy with his accomplishments. He did not feel satisfied.

He felt empty.

It wasn't the fact that he was being manipulated. It wasn't due to the fact he was not being compensated in the least for all the work he did. It was the grief of knowing that when he died, he would crush Jack. When he died, there would be hardly anyone to be at his funeral. When he died, he would probably die alone.

Alex held back a sob, knowing that those revelations were not even the half of it. The world depended on _him_. The world depended on a small, fourteen year old boy who didn't even know how to shave and who was currently failing his studies.

Over and over the youth had brushed with death, and then he was expected to go to school and pick up like nothing happened. Over and over Alex had made Jack worry and fuss over him, grading her down, making her weary. He had almost lost Sabina that way…

The youth knocked his head against the pew in front of him. He was tired. Tired of life, tired of being a spy, and tired of letting everyone down.

A soft creaking of wood caused his head to snap up warily. It was nothing but a teary eyed woman stepping out of the confessional, happily dabbing her eyes, whispering "Thank you, Father." Alex cocked his head, trying to understand. Was she thanking God or the priest sitting in the box?

Alex was determined to find out. With a new found determination he marched up to the elderly woman. "Excuse me Ms.," he started, "who were you thanking right then?"

She smiled and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief once again. "Why don't you see for yourself?" She motioned to the confessional, patted his shoulder and hobbled away.

Alex looked at the door, uncertain. He had never been in one of those before. Technically speaking, it was a nightmare. One could become trapped, and someone could just shoot at the door, killing whoever was inside.

He mentally slapped himself. This wasn't some mission. MI6 hadn't sent him into another death trap. This was a church for heaven's sake!

But as the sanctuary doors opened, announcing the arrival of the two MI6 agents, Alex was all to glad to dash into the box. He cracked the door and peered out. The agents were scanning the church, trying to spot him. They hadn't noticed the confessional, yet.

They were dressed inconspicuously but Alex recognized them as the agents who had showed up at his house.

The spy sat back heavily and let out a long breath. Something big must be going on for MI6 to send two people for him, instead of just calling. Deep down, he knew that he was the only one who could help, but that didn't mean anything. He didn't want to. Plain and simple.

The screen slid back, causing Alex to jump. It was a confessional after all.

"Oh, hello." Alex breathed, still jumpy.

"Have you come to confess, my son?" The priest's voice was gravely, and Alex could only see a vague profile through the screen.

Alex paused. No he hadn't come here to confess. But he might as well, right? He wracked his brain to find something he could classify as a sin. Then something popped up, something that he tried to bury deep inside, something that had caused many sleepless nights.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." Alex whispered. He had heard that in a movie once, but he really had no idea what he was doing.

The Father chuckled softly. "What have you done that needs God's forgiveness my son?"

Alex hesitated. "I-I've killed a man, Father." Scratch that, he had killed _many_ men.

The Father seemed to contemplate this. "Did you enjoy killing them?"

Alex shook his head. "No."

"Then why did you kill them?"

Alex thought about this. Why did he kill them? It wasn't for revenge; it had always been when someone had attacked him first. "It was in self defense."

"Then why would you need God's forgiveness when you have done nothing wrong? It was either you or whoever you killed. God understands that."

Alex's lip raised in a silent growl. This was not what he wanted to hear. It would be easier to have been accused of murderer, than to live with the knowledge there was nothing he could have done. What was worse was that the priest said the same thing Ian would have said if he were here now. It annoyed the heck out of him.

"But that doesn't make me feel any better." Alex winced. He was whining. There was no room for whining. Especially not in his line of work.

The priest chuckled, a wheezing laugh. "No, I'm afraid it doesn't."

Alex nodded, uncomfortable. He had bared more of this feelings and emotions that he ever had… to well anyone. It was very uncomfortable. If not for the fact two agents were outside he would have left already. Maybe he would, he was done being weak.

The priest spoke up before Alex could make a move. "Matthew 5:9 says: 'Blessed are the peace makers…' I believe you are a peacemaker my son. Even though you may not like it, you have a calling. Thus sayeth the Lord."

Alex blinked. If he had grown up in the church he would have realized this as a prophecy or something along those lines. But he hadn't so all he could think about was how uncanny this was. But there were no things as circumstances.

His head whirled to face the screen. "Who are you?" He hissed.

The priest turned to look straight at Alex. They couldn't see each other's eyes, but the tension was so thick a speeding bullet couldn't pierce it.

"Who do you think I am? Do you believe I'm a priest? Am I a siren of God? Or am I someone you don't want me to be?" The voice was thick, menacing.

Alex felt a calm come over him. "I believe you can be whoever you want to be." With that he stepped out of the box and into the sanctuary.

He would look back on this day as a time when his armor cracked, his self-defense withered. But weather the words the Father spoke were God inspired or MI6 trying to give him a pep talk… Well, it was whatever he wanted to be. So as Alex was ushered into a black car with two more agents standing on either side of the open door, he took comfort in the fact that he could do his job well.

Ian would be proud.

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Oh hey, if this pans over, I was thinking that maybe I would try some more... if you do NOT want that to happen... you know how to review right? (evil grin)


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